Lightfingers
by nootylicious
Summary: Sakon is a thief. Sakon is a very good thief. Sakon could steal candy from a baby, or candy from most anyone. But it's rather difficult to carry out business in a ghost town. With the moon falling, Sakon's trade is put under threat. Join him as he struggles to rob the citizens of Clock Town blind, even when there may not be that many citizens left to rob...
1. Dawn of the First Day - 72 Hours Remain

Greedy. Parasite. The lowest of the low. Revolting. A blot on creation.

All of these titles had been applied to Sakon at some point in his life. He wore them like medals. What was the point in being a goody-goody no-pennies when you could always have more? What does it matter that a couple of nobodies get a bit tiffed with you when you lighten their purses a bit? All that name-calling went to show that Sakon was doing his job right.

Although he didn't mind the insults, he honestly thought that the people should be a bit more grateful towards him. He was a desperado! A regular Guard Rogue! He was just like the legendary thief, robbing from the rich and giving to the poor. Although nobody could really call his victims 'rich', per se. And he wasn't really that poor, either. Whatever. Some might disagree with his idealogy, but Sakon knew better. He was every bit as dashing and heroic as the fabled Guard Rogue. At least, in his own opinion. And that was the only opinion that mattered.

Sakon cast a loving gaze over his hoard before heading out. It was every bit as beautiful as it had been last night when he had checked it before going to bed. Every treasure in his trove was not only a trophy, not only an accolade, but like a lover to him. He gently skirted a hand over an enormous wooden head he had lifted from the Stock Pot Inn. There was a story behind that one. One involving booking a room and robbing the place blind while skipping out on the bill in the dead of the night. He was planning on selling it at some point, when the crowd at the inn eventually forgot about it and it would be safe for him to lug it about Clock Town. Yes, like any good lover, he would eventually allow his treasures to know what they meant to him by selling them on for cash. And they would understand. Because he knew in his heart that his treasures loved him too.

It was an absolutely lovely morning out. Sakon took a deep breath through his nose when he set foot outside. Perfect. The sky was blue, and there was scarcely a cloud out on Termina Field to blot out the sun. He absolutely loved days like these.

Of course, there were the clouds hovering over Ikana. He wrinkled his nose to see them. There was hardly _ever_ good weather in Ikana Valley. He had a bit of a love-hate relationship with the place. On one hand, it was nice and warm, and no one else lived there. That meant no neighbours to bother him or interrogate him, or even worse, find his hideout. It was also beyond the Clock Town Guard's patrol area, so they had no reason to come sniffling around for his hide. Admittedly, it was nice and peaceful.

On the _other_ hand, there were the perpetual clouds. They never went away. That meant that any warmth around the place came from the awful humidity hanging around the canyon. It was also far too dangerous to go and loot. Not because of the neighbours. The only other people who lived in Ikana were a loony scientist and his brat. No, the real reason was that there were too many accursed monsters. Sakon wasn't easily shaken, but the sight of real live zombies traipsing around was enough to make him keep his distance from the palace ruins. He hadn't even bothered with the old temple. He had walked in, seen the drop, and walked right out again. There was also the strange sensation that he was being watched while he was out and about in the Valley. Not in a romantic way. In a cut-throat way.

There was _also_ the addition of his hideout. The structure itself. He hadn't built it. It had been standing there when he had arrived in Ikana four years ago. It was a decent spot, tucked into a cliffside and out of the way of prying eyes, but there was the problem of the interior. He had no idea who had owned it previously, but whoever did had had a twisted sense of humour. The place was full of weird traps that he _would_ have loved as a security system, but there was the fact that it also had all of these switches and gizmos that actively contradicted themselves.

There was the conveyer belt, which moved _agonizingly_ slowly. He had placed the mask he stole from that purple-haired brat on it, just in case he tried to come and snatch it back. When the switch in front of it was stepped on, the conveyer belt would start moving.

 _However,_ the door to the next room would also open. It was the same with all the rooms, meaning that two people could get through the hideout if they stepped on all the right switches. For whatever reason, there were switches that slowed down the conveyer belt, and there were even two switches at the end that completely _stopped_ it. It was like the architects of the hideout _wanted_ the ones breaking in to get through it, just with a little bit of a challenge. He had brought in one of the carpenters from Clock Town to modify it, but all he managed to do was get an alarm installed before the man realized he wasn't going to get a rupee from Sakon and quit.

For Sakon, the cons really outweighed the pros. He wasn't a fan of the neighbourhood, and his hideout wasn't very well designed. But he had no other options. Where else could he go?

He pushed all of those thoughts to the back of his mind and grinned. He had a _big_ day ahead. He set off skipping down the trail, ignoring the occasional feeling that something nearby wanted his head. His number one priority was the heist he was going to pull off tonight in Clock Town. Nothing big, but it might earn him a tidy profit if he wheedled with the Curiosity Shop guy. It'd be as easy as stealing candy from a baby, considering his target was at least seventy. He had tabs on everyone in Clock Town, and he knew that the old lady from the bomb shop would be bringing their newest stock of big bomb bags home tonight.

Suddenly, he heard a splash as he skipped by the river. A tiny boy with a green hat pulled himself out of the water and jogged towards him. Sakon ignored the kid and kept skipping, so the kid ran right up to him and got his attention.

He raised an eyebrow as he looked down at the kid. He had this weird expression on his face, like he thought Sakon was some sort of villain. Weird, considering he'd never met the kid in his life. People usually got to know him for about a minute before hating him forever, rather than just doing it before they spoke. Whatever about the boy, though, because Sakon's attention was focused on that shiny sword he had strapped to his back.

"Hey, that's a nice sword you have..." he murmured, chuckling. He felt he should sweeten up the kid by pretending to look out for him or something. "You know... lately, frightening ghosts have been appearing in swarms in Ikana Village across the river. It seems they're the ghosts of Ikana's Royal Family, or something..." Not that he cared. The kid didn't seem impressed.

"There's no one living there anymore, though, so I moved nearby. Heh, heh..."

Wait, why did he say that? Why did he just give away the location of his hideout? He rambled on in an attempt to distract the kid from that information.

"Now there's a curious parent and child living there while they research the ghosts..." The brat didn't seem to care about anything he was saying, so he decided to go in for the kill. "Did I mention that is one niiiiice sword? Can I see it for a second?"

Surprisingly, the kid nodded obligingly.

"Huh?! Really? I don't want to trouble you, but..." he wheedled, carefully watching the boy for any signs of backing out. He didn't. Sakon's fingers began to itch as the boy reached for his sheath. He could almost feel the cool metal in his hands when, all of a sudden, an angry red light began to buzz around his head, bonking him on the forehead and tinkling loudly.

"Whaaa? S-s-some red thing?! What is it? It seems h-hostile!" he yelled, swatting at it in alarm. He managed to break away and fled down the trail to Termina Field, leaving the boy in the dust.

After a few minutes of solid sprinting (Sakon had learned long ago to _never_ stop running until you're absolutely certain that you're out of the woods), rock turned to grass, and Sakon found himself on the Termina Field. He rubbed his hands together as he surveyed the vast plains. Yes, although the day hadn't started off _quite_ as he had expected, the world was still ripe with possibilities.

Right. He picked a direction, and skipped off towards the Astral Observatory. During the brief times when he didn't have any specific jobs to prepare for or carry out, Sakon liked to spend his time scavenging and foraging for sparklies. The Observatory was a particularily choice spot, as most of the interesting things in the field somehow ended up there.

Sure enough, as Sakon drew near the Observatory, something shiny drew his attention. His eyes slid along the trunk of a tree, and came to rest on fifty whole rupees, sitting high in a crow's nest. His eyes began to sparkle with greed, but he then remembered that he absolutely hated physical exertion of any sort. Climbing a tree would be just short of torture for his skinny frame. Filling his left cheek with air, he quickly scanned his surroundings, deflating his cheek with a pop as his eyes came to rest on a ginger youth. He squinted.

Ah, yes. He knew that boy. He sat on the steps just outside of town, vacantly staring into space. He wore a white shirt and a fairly trendy close-cut beard, although Sakon was pretty sure the beard naturally looked like that, rather than any intentions of looking cool on the man's part.

Yes. It was a bit tricky to get information on him, but Sakon was dedicated to his trade, and wouldn't let an average joe like him be the first to slip through his network of information. The young man was scarcely out at all, leading Sakon to think that he was hiding some sort of incredible secret, and he had devoted weeks of his time to chronicling his entire persona. In the end, it was a total waste of time, because the only reason he was so rarely out was because he spent all day sleeping. It seemed he only ever left his home by the laundry pool for his part-time job at the Trading Post in the evenings. Sakon actually recalled passing by him several times during his various trips to the Curiosity Shop, but he had such an utterly unmemorable face that the encounters had completely washed over Sakon.

If he remembered correctly, the young man was constantly bored, constantly broke, and constantly looking for things to fill in his days. He was also very stupid. Sakon fixed a smile on his face.

"Good morning, friend!" he called shrilly, his grin widening as he pranced towards his target. The man's head drifted towards Sakon, and his eyes widened in alarm as he saw the terrifyingly wide smile on the thief's face.

"Uh, good morning," he mumbled, unconciously shrinking away from Sakon's advancing figure.

Sakon stopped, and leaned forward, making a show of scrutinizing the man. He placed a hand on his hip and scratched his head, then snapped his fingers in a show of theatrical inspiration. "You seem bored, my friend."

The man blinked. "Uh, I guess so."

Sakon's face crumpled as he clutched his chest in shock. "What a predicament! A problem that faces all of today's youth! Boredom, oh, boredom, dear me..." He staggered about, his face clouded with woe. "Is there anything worse than being both bored and penniless? Ah, not to offend, mister..."

"Candel."

"Candel. Lovely name, by the way. Not to offend, but you strike me as a man who has been left behind by fortune," Sakon announced knowingly.

Candel blinked again. "Well, uh... I guess so?"

"I knew it!" cried Sakon, startling the man. "Oh, woe is people like us, mister Candel..." He staggered about the place a bit more, then decided to unleash his coup de grace. He suddenly snapped his fingers in another apparent surge of inspiration. "Unless..."

"Unless?" Candel asked, furrowing his brow.

"Well, you see, I do recall seeing a pretty bundle of rupees in a crow's nest not too far from here. Rupees that a fellow like yourself could gladly use. Sitting unattended, no less!" he declared, wagging a finger in front of him.

"Rupees?" Candel asked. Giants, this boy was starting to sound like a parrot. He wasn't catching on. It looked like Sakon would just have to spell it out for him.

"Yes! In that very tree!" he cried, pointing to the tree. Candel stood up and squinted at it.

"Huh."

"I believe this would be a prime exercise in slaying boredom, don't you, mister Candel? Why don't you just hop along and grab them?" Sakon suggested, his patience wearing thin.

"Uh, okay." He began to make his way towards the tree, but then stopped and squinted suspiciously at Sakon. "Why are you telling me this?"

 _Get me my rupees, you ginger ninny._ "Because I am a benevolent soul, mister Candel. Now, tush, tush! Hop along, now!" he insisted, almost shoving Candel in the direction of the tree. He stood and watched expectantly as the young man began shimmying up the trunk. Soon, he had reached the all-important branch with the nest in it. He reached out to grab it. Just as his hands closed around the goods, Sakon casually tackled the tree with his shoulder. The whole thing swayed, and three shining rupees fell from Candel's hand as he clutched onto the trunk to avoid falling.

"Hey! What was that for?!" he shouted down.

"Whoops! Sorry," laughed Sakon as he tackled the tree again. He had only gotten him to drop two fives and a twenty, so the remaining twenty rupees was still in Candel's possession.

"Stop that!" yelled Candel.

"I'm afraid that's out of the question! I'd love to thank you for doing the dirty work for me, but not until you _give me that twenty_ ," Sakon called, his frame juddering the tree for a third time. Candel clung on stubbornly. The sparkling red jewel still refused to fall from his grubby little hands.

"I thought you said _I_ could have the money!" Candel cried.

"I never said anything of the sort. It's not my fault that you're too much of a _sucker_ to see the loopholes in our agreement." He still wasn't letting go of the rupee. Sakon went for another tackle.

"You're evil, man! No way am I giving this to you!" Candel yelled, tightening his grip on the tree. Sakon ceased his assault and sighed. Somehow, he felt he was going to come away from this twenty rupees short of his expectations.

"Well, it's been nice knowing you, mister Candel," he called airily over his shoulder as he skipped away, the thirty rupees tucked safely into his bag.

"W-wait! At least help me _down_ from here! You made me lose my foothold!" Candel yelled as Sakon left the scene. The thief paused, and turned his head until he was half-facing Candel.

"Will you give me the twenty rupees?"

Candel's eyes widened incredulously. "No _way_!"

Sakon continued skipping along towards the town, Candel's shouts following him all the way.

* * *

Sakon sat perched atop the building across from the inn. To the untrained eye, it seemed that he was simply doodling or scribbling absent-mindedly. However, it was on the contrary. Although he seemed to be daydreaming, Sakon was observing his surroundings with an eagle eye. He wanted to keep tabs on any and all people in Clock Town, even if they were only passing through, and, as it so happened, most of the members of that travelling troupe were in his direct line of vision from where he sat. Oh, yes, Sakon really did think of everything. From his spot on the wooden railing, he could see both of those juggling twins by the Treasure Chest Game, the troupe leader on his way out of the inn, and one of those dancing twins pacing up and down the hall through the inn window. He could also hear a lilting song being played from the room they were staying in. He opened a fresh page of his notebook, and began to write under the heading of 'Performing Troupe'.

" **Juggling Twins** : Identical twins. Weird idea of performer's humour. Heard them talking about the moon falling ? "

Those two men were exceptionally weird, to be fair. They had been practicing their juggling routine all morning since before Sakon had even arrived in town. Admittedly, when he looked up at the sky, he did notice that the moon was a bit... closer than usual, but the idea of it falling out of the sky was just a bit too weird. Anyway, neither of them had anything of value to offer, which Sakon noted at the bottom of their entry.

" **Dancing Twins** : Foreign. Stuck on dance routine. Might reward help ? One in blue = Judo. One in red = ?"

Again, they had nothing to offer him, either. Well, maybe unless he found a way to help them with their dance routine, but Sakon couldn't dance to save his life. Next entry.

" **Guru-guru** : Music box guy. Writes own songs. Scary when angry, apparently. May appreciate a shoulder to cry on."

This actually offered some promise, as he could smell something interesting about the music box guy. He only left his room at night when the others were trying to sleep, though, so that ruled him out for tonight. Sakon had other plans for tonight.

" **Troupe Leader** : Gorman brother ? Appointment with Madame Aroma, 10 a.m. May have something valuable, unlikely for good target material."

The man in question was on his way to the Mayor's house right that second, in fact. He passed under Sakon's dangling feet, a furiously grumpy expression on his face. He wouldn't necessarily be an good target because A) he rarely left his room, unless it was to go to the bar, and B) Sakon didn't really _know_ that he had anything good on him.

Well, that was that. Even though it was useless information, he still had it, for better or for worse. Sakon snapped his notebook shut and shoved it back in his sack. If he recalled it correctly, a Goron should be coming to stay at the inn later today. He had heard Anju and that horrendous mother of hers discussing it. He was keeping this appointment in mind. Although not always, Gorons sometimes carried valuable ore on their persons, which Sakon could always use. It would be a risky operation, though, because Gorons had no qualms about fighting back. And Sakon wasn't great in a fight.

Then again, the Goron might not even have anything good in the first place. Those juggling brothers had been telling political jokes all morning, and Sakon overheard them saying something about a bad blizzard in Snowhead. He didn't really care, though. Sakon's domain was Clock Town.

To pass the time until tonight's heist, Sakon decided to take a stroll around town.

* * *

Sakon was so glad that he had chosen to infest Clock Town with his network of thievery and lies. It really was a nice place. Yeah, his base of operations wasn't too favourable, but Clock Town itself was a really, really nice place. The buildings and atmosphere were unbeatable, the food was great, and the locals were huge idiots. They were lucky Sakon didn't have anything in store for them at that particular moment, because if he had, they would have been sitting ducks. He eyed peoples unguarded purse strings with a deceptively cheerful squint.

As he strolled up the steps in west Clock Town, he was suddenly reminded of the Lottery Shop that lay at the top. It had been a while since he had gone in there. For some maddening reason, he was completely unable to gather any sort of information on the owner. He had never even seen their face. No matter how far forward he leaned into the lottery booth when paying for tickets, no matter how many angles he tried to peer at them from, Sakon was never able to catch so much as a glimpse of what the mysterious cashier looked like. Though, this was a fact he had resigned himself to long ago. Nowadays, the most frustrating thing about the lottery shop was that he had never once gotten the winning ticket.

The tacky music playing over the speakers greeted Sakon as he closed the shop door behind him. He glanced sideways at the ticket booth. The darkness behind the counter looked back at him.

The dry, rustling voice of the ticket salesperson spoke up. "Lottery ticket? Just ten rupees."

When Sakon had first arrived in town, they had spoken in the same rough voice, but their sales pitch had been quite a bit longer. And jazzier.

"Today's winning numbers, thank you," he replied cheerfully.

The salesperson didn't laugh as they looked for a ticket. "Ten rupees, please."

Sakon placed the red jewel he had oh-so-brilliantly robbed from Candel onto the wooden counter. He then pretended to stare into space as he waited for his ticket. In truth, though, he was carefully watching the counter in the hopes that _this_ would be the time he caught a glimpse of the cashier's face.

However, just like every other time he had visited the lottery shop, he blinked and then missed it. The ticket lay on the counter in place of the rupee.

"Here's your ticket."

"Thank you." Sakon didn't let his disappointment show as he took the scrap of paper.

"The results are out at 6 a.m. tomorrow," they told him in a monotone. "Don't forget to check your numbers. Amazing prizes. Thrilling gambits. Thank you for taking a chance at the Clock Town lottery shop." A clunk reverbated throughout the shop, and the counter slowly and judderingly swivelled around until the desk had disappeared into the wall.

Sakon let a puff of air out of his cheek. Well, another day, another dawn. He would find another chance to get information on that cashier. For now, he was content with grabbing some lunch and waiting for night to fall.

* * *

His neck was stiff. In his boredom, he had arrived too early, and so had spent the last two hours crouching next to the playground in north Clock Town. He was bored and restless. Also, that sandwich he had picked up from that Zora vendor in the town square may have had some bad fish in it. His stomach was doing backflips.

He yawned and burped at the same time.

"Ex-cuse me," he said to no one.

No one replied.

"You're excused," he answered.

He shifted himself around to alleviate some of the burning in his calves and settled down to wait for the old lady to show up. He yawned again.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps reached his ears. Sakon's heart rate increased and he readied himself for his moment.

"What are _you_ doing here?"

Sakon almost leapt out of his skin at the childish voice. Snapping his head around the side of the slide, he saw a brat of about seven years old looking down at him. His face assumed a mask of fury.

"Go _away_ , you snot-eater! You'll ruin everything!" he hissed. The boy's name was Jim, and he was the boss of a rag-tag group of annoyances called the Blowers, or something. The gang was comprised entirely of orphans, all with sad little sob stories of their own. They all shared a home in the Clock Town sewers, which was evident in their scruffy, snotty appearances. Each one made his name on the street by helping various residents around the town. That meant that they recognized Sakon as Public Enemy Number One.

"Not until you tell me what you're doing," Jim retorted.

"Taking a pleasant stroll. Now _go away_!"

Jim paused. Jim considered.

"I don't believe you."

" _Oh,_ for-" _What_ was it with the youth of today and wanting to _help_ people? Why couldn't he just go and... play some conkers, or something? Sakon massaged the bridge of his nose.

"You're up to something, aren't you?" Jim stated.

Sakon moved his fingers away from his face to fix the boy with a glare. "And what if I was? What would you do about it? Tell your _mommy_?" Trick question, of course. Jim didn't have parents. It was a statement designed to wound the boy, and, judging from his crestfallen face, it did the trick.

"I'll..." He struggled, flushing bright red, before his face brightened with realization. "I'll tell the guards on you!"

"Oh." Sakon failed to suppress a snort. "Go on, then. Tell on me. Tell the guards on me," he mimicked. If it meant the boy would _leave him alone_.

"I will!" Jim declared. He set off in a run in the opposite direction. Sakon resumed his squatting, as the gentle plopping of Jim's footsteps was suddenly joined by the shuffling of the guard.

"Hey, guard! I got something to tell you! It's-"

"Uh, no, kid, sorry kid, can't let you out of the town walls. Too dangerous for a kid like you."

"No, no, no! I don't wanna go out! It's Sa-" the brat bleated, but got cut off.

"Uh, sorry. Can't do it. Why don'tcha go home to your mother?" the guard tactlessly repeated. Sakon sniggered. He couldn't see what was going on, but a long silence followed the guard's careless statement.

"I hope you get pooped on by guays!" Jim finally yelled, before running off. Sakon laughed away to himself as the guard called indignantly after the fleeing lad. As he settled himself down to wait for his target to appear, Sakon was so filled with malicious glee that he failed to hear the sound of Jim's furious footsteps slow to a stop as he encountered a certain boy. Neither did he hear Jim whisper to the boy, and he certainly didn't hear the silent boy nod in the darkness of the night. Sakon sat and waited.

Shortly after, he heard an unmistakably hobbling pattern of footprints. _Just_ to make sure, he peeked around the corner, and a silent giggle escaped him. Yes, that was _definitely_ her. Grey hair, small bun, neat apron - and, unless his eyes were _very_ much mistaken (which they weren't), a bomb bag slung over her shoulders. She limped along the path, bent under the weight of the sack. Sakon tutted to himself. Poor old dear. He could almost hear her bones cracking under all that strain. Technically, he was doing her a favour. The poor chicken's back would surely give out if she had to lug that sack all the way home.

Well, time to go.

He set off at a light skip, as careless as a sunbeam in spring. He gave a friendly nod to the clueless guard - Paloon, was that his name? - as he passed. Oh, she hadn't even noticed him, the poor darling. He drew closer. Just as they brushed past each other, only then did she look up to smile at him. Her eyes grew wide with alarm just a second too late. Sakon bumped into her as hard as he could, yanking the bomb bag off of her back and knocking her to the ground.

"Oops, oh dear, sorry!" he called at the top of his lungs, laughing to himself.

And he was off! Bag on his back, night air in his lungs, Sakon set off at a sprint towards the town gate. Paloon blinked dumbly, entirely unsure of what was happening. Sakon would have no trouble getting past him.

"Help! Thief!" the old hag called feebly. Sakon cackled to himself as he approached freedom. Yes, aww, a thief. Not just _any_ thief, you decrepit ninny. She had the privilege of being robbed by The One, The Only, Sako-

Sakon shrieked as the whoosh of metal sliced past his ear.

For a second, he was completely disorientated. The sack dropped to the ground, cut from his hands by an attack that narrowly missed his fingers. He flailed. He panicked. He ran as fast as he could, ducking under the armpits of Paloon, the incompetent guard. His first thought was that another guard had ambushed him. As he fled, he turned his head to check if they were chasing him. There was probably three- no, _six_ guards, all of them armed to the teeth and in pursuit of his head. Sakon was prepared to be met with dozens of spears pointed at him, but instead, a small boy in green was picking up the bomb bag.

The _exact_ same boy he had met that morning.

He almost stopped dead in his tracks.

He didn't, of course. The boy still had his sword in his left hand (the very sword that Sakon had attempted to rob that morning). Sakon kept running and running, far away from the gates of north Clock Town and all the way to the eastern canyon. Once he was _absolutely one-hundred-per-cent certain_ that he was safe, he collapsed against a pillar, struggling for breath.

For once, something outweighed the disappointment of losing out on a heist. The _absurdity_ -

Sakon blinked.

No, that couldn't be possible. He couldn't have been stopped by a _ten-year-old_. Him, the great Sakon. Sakon, who had eluded Clock Town's elitest guards, Sakon, who could steal a house from its foundations if he so wanted- it was impossible, wasn't it?

He rubbed his eyes. It suddenly occured to him just how tired he was. The gurgling in his gut made him feel as though he wouldn't be getting that much sleep that night, and his back was stiffer than ever. He wanted his hideout. He wanted his treasures.

Sakon trudged home, wondering if he had truly lost his edge or not. He was so tired that he failed to notice that the skies over Ikana were clear. Nor did he notice that, despite it being the middle of the night, a brilliant rainbow was shining over the canyon.

* * *

 **a/n: this is actually something i started over the summer ! and ended up finishing when i SHOULD have been studying for mid-terms, and uploaded at 4am when i really should be sleeping, haha.  
so, Sakon, huh? personally, he's my least favourite character in majora's mask, but for all the right reasons. he's just so easy to hate, you know? he's slimy, he's sneaky, he's absolutely disgusting, he's a really really well-done character! all that selfishness and nastiness inside one person can't go unnoticed!**

 **i will upload more soon...-0-**


	2. Dawn of the Second Day - 48 Hours Remain

Sakon blinked at the brilliant morning sun. He had _definitely_ caught some sort of bacterial infection from that fish. His bowels had kept him up most of the night, so he slept well into the morning. That meant he had very little time today to get up to no good.

He failed to suppress a grumble. Why was it so accursedly _bright_ out? He took back everything he said about the humidity. He preferred the humidity. Right now, it felt as though lasers were shooting directly into his brain. Shielding his eyes from the ridiculously bright light, he squinted up into the blue sky. A grinning chunk of rock leered back at him. Either his eyes was playing tricks on him, or the moon was _definitely_ looking a little bit closer today.

Oh, well. Another day, another dawn. With any bit of luck, he would get much better results out of today than he did out of yesterday. Sakon set off down the track with noticably less of a pep in his step than the morning previous.

* * *

Today, Sakon decided to enter Clock Town from the southern gate. The pretentious would-be poet at the eastern gate was a bit too familiar with Sakon for his liking, and even Sakon wouldn't risk the northern gate again (no matter how much of a buffoon dear Paloon was).

The buzzing festivities of the Clock Town square greeted him. That statement was a bit of humour on Sakon's part. There was nothing buzzing about the square, although it could be argued that the limp banners draped from building to building were an attempt at festivity. The grungy decorations were just made all the more pathetic by the heavy clouds hanging over the town. The number of carpenters working on the carnival centrepiece had almost halved since yesterday. One man carried a wooden beam around the top of the structure, while another shouted abuse at him from the ground. A third stood at the eastern end of the square, taking a long lunch. He occasionally spat at a recruitment poster for the Clock Town unit. Sakon chuckled, sharing in the sentiment. Other than that, the only thing in the square that had remained from yesterday was a filthy little terrier, which was now gnawing at Sakon's shoes. His expression soured.

"Come off it, you mutt," he grunted, kicking at the dog. The rabid little beast yelped upon contact, hopping away and whimpering. Sakon couldn't help his mouth curling into a little smile of self-satisfaction at the sight. As he watched the fleabag run off to some far corner of the square, he couldn't help but think that today might not turn out to be so bad after all.

Today would be spent strolling around town, possibly picking up on any potential targets. Seeing as there was only about a day left until the carnival, Clock Town should have been crawling with suckers. Sakon decided to take a walk along the east side of town to pick the pockets of any idiots bothering to stay at the inn.

The lilting music from Honey and Darling's Sickeningly Lovey-Dovey Game Hut told him a game was on as he strolled into the east side. He chuckled. Someone was getting ripped off, it seemed, and not by him. He had seen countless people come storming out of there, tearing at their hair and cursing the embarassingly affectionate couple. Though, the two did offer some decent prizes if a challenger _did_ manage to win. He would keep the place in mind later, after he found a few decent targets to rob. He rubbed his hands together as he imagined the countless fat purses that would await him just around the corner - he would be like a child in a candy store. No one would see him coming. Today would _definitely_ be a good day.

Then he turned the corner, and stopped.

The street was deserted.

No, that was wrong. The street wasn't deserted. The juggling brothers were still there, and so was one of those Bottom boys, or whatever they were called. The snot-nosed brat glared suspiciously at Sakon as he dumbly surveyed the street.

This was ridiculous. Where were all the fools? Where were Sakon's herd?

 _Where was all the money_?

Sakon reasoned with himself. No, it was early in the day. Early-ish. The people would arrive this evening. They _had_ to. Yes, this was fine. By this time tomorrow, Clock Town would be stuffed to the rafters with merrymakers and rich simpletons. Sakon would be fine.

But the leering chunk of rock overhead that had been lingering at the edge of his attention all day suddenly seemed a lot less... unthreatening. Slowly, he turned his attention to the sky. The moon was even closer than it had been that morning. If Sakon was to climb to the top of the Clock Tower, he would be able to hit it with a rock, if he threw hard enough. He gulped, a horrible little idea slowly dragging itself to the forefront of his mind.

What if the moon _was_ falling?

He reasoned. He wheedled. But he kept coming back to the same conclusion, over and over. Yes, the residents of Clock Town weren't the brightest bunch. If someone told them the sea was made of milk, a good percentage of them would probably believe it. But the fact was that not a single tourist was milling about, and the tourists tended to be a bit more savvy. Of a better stock, to put it mildly. It was usually the well-travelled tourists who were better able to distinguish fact from fad.

And if the tourists were keeping away... maybe that meant that there might be a threat after all.

His dark daydreams were suddenly broken through by the creaking of a door. All thoughts of the moon falling were banished from Sakon's mind as he remembered the game hut's lucky winner. He felt a familiar itch in his fingers, and turned around to check what he was up against. As soon as he did, however, he barely stifled a shriek.

It was _him_! That brat in green! The bane of his life over the last two days! The twerp was shutting the door to the game hut behind him, while calls of "congratulations!" came from within. Sakon didn't even want to think about what might happen if the child spotted him. In a panic, he looked around for somewhere to hide, and his eyes came to rest upon a small wooden box by one of the flagpoles. Without a second thought, he dove in.

It was a _very_ tight fit - he would have a hard time believing anyone larger than a Blobber boy could fit in it - but he just about squashed himself inside. He held his breath. For a while, he couldn't hear anything, other than the footsteps of the other three idiots in the street. His head was tucked somewhere beneath his posterior. With great effort, he twisted his neck until he could see outside through a small slit in the box.

The boy was still standing outside the game hut, just not doing anything. Sakon became antsy. Why wasn't he doing anything? Had he seen him? Sweat poured down the back of his neck. He desperately wished the boy would just end the torture and _do_ something.

Minutes passed.

Those oblivious juggling brothers kept telling hilariously unfunny jokes as they practiced their routine.

"Hey, did you hear, did you hear?"

"What is it, what is it?"

"It sounds like all of Termina's troubles have just disappeared overnight! The swamps have turned clear, spring has returned to Snowhead, the scary-wary fog in the Great Bay is gone, and _I_ even heard that the spirits in Ikana Canyon have been laid to rest!"

"Oh ho ho ho! If only the same could be said for Clock Town! That moon's gonna come down harder than dear Mama on laundry day, my clumsy brother! Looks like its curtains for us!"

"Oh ho ho ho!"

"Oh ho ho ho!"

 _That wasn't even a joke, you idiots,_ he thought to himself as he restlessly observed the boy. He still hadn't moved a muscle. Sakon was considering slowly inching the box to safety, but then the boy suddenly moved. Sakon seized up as the boy produced an ocarina from seemingly nowhere and held it up to his lips, and squinted in confusion as he began to play.

After the boy had hesitantly tooted out a song that Sakon had never heard before, there was a second or so of silence. Then, a full-on invisible orchestra seemed to erupt from nowhere as the boy played the song again in full. Violins, harps, lyres - all of them were suddenly accompanying the boy's song at full blast, getting faster and faster. The noise startled Sakon so much that he jerked. The sudden movement proved to be too much for the box's flimsy walls, and so it burst. Sakon found himself sitting out in the open.

He was like a rabbit caught in headlights. He stared in horror at the boy, fully expecting the brat to come charging over and slice his head off. However, the boy's eyes remained closed as he finished his performance. All Sakon could do was watch in wonder as the last strains of the song faded into echoes.

Then the boy opened his eyes and looked right at Sakon.

Sakon blinked. The situation then dawned on him, and he was fully prepared to make full use of his running abilities to leg it as far away as he possibly could.

Before he could, though, the strangest thing happened. Wings suddenly erupted from the boy's back. They enveloped his body, forming a small cocoon, which began to spin around. It gained speed, spinning faster and faster until Sakon felt dizzy just watching it. Then, without warning, the boy and his wings suddenly disappeared into thin air. Sakon dumbly stared at the spot where the boy had been standing.

He blinked again.

He furrowed his brow.

He turned his head to face the juggling twins.

"Did you see that?" he asked them.

"See what?" one of them called back cheerfully.

He turned his head back to where the boy had been standing. He pulled himself to his feet.

He began to quickly walk away.

* * *

Sakon sat at the top of the steps of west Clock Town. He had his chin in his hands, and wore an expression so uncharacteristically gloomy that one would think he were a completely different man.

He was down.

He had repressed the thought of the winged brat in green, and was now just ruminating on the fact that today was probably the worst day in his entire career. He hadn't gotten one single hit today. Not a single person was out who was worth robbing. He hadn't been able to formulate the beginning of a future scheme, he hadn't found any money lying around, he hadn't chronicled any new faces in town because, oh yes, _there weren't any_. He glumly stuck his hands in his pockets to feel around for any spare rupees for lunch, and his hands came into contact with paper. He pulled it out.

The lottery ticket he had bought yesterday sat in the palm of his hand. He stared down at the ink on the paper. The random numbers he had picked stared back at him.

In a sudden fit of rage, he flung the ticket to the wind. Useless scrap of... paper. There was no point in checking his numbers. His luck was so awful today, he would probably somehow manage to _lose_ rupees if he did. He plugged his chin back into his hands and stared straight ahead, a storm brewing on his face.

The wind blew the ticket over Sakon's head and to the small square at the top of the steps. It danced about in the breeze, blowing here and blowing there, until it stuck itself to the face of one of the Bomber boys who was wandering around the square. The young lad pulled the ticket from his cheek in confusion and examined it. An expression of childish joy spreak across his face, and, clutching the ticket in his fist, he ran off towards the lottery shop.

Sakon sighed heavily. If there was some sort of lesson to be learned in today, he really wasn't getting it. He wondered what his mother would say if she saw him right now, moping over his bad luck. Probably something disparaging. She never was a very positive woman. Still, even she would have to have _some_ sympathy for him. He was a man who fortune had spat upon. The only good thing about today was that nothing else could happen to make him feel any worse.

"I won the jackpot! I won the jackpot!" came a screech. Sakon snapped his head around to see a young boy bursting out of the lottery shop, his arms laden with rupees. The boy danced around, shrieking with glee. In his euphoria, he accidentally let go of the ticket he was clutching. It fluttered to Sakon's feet.

Slowly, Sakon bent over to pick it up. He squinted to read the writing that had been blurred by the child's hand. Eventually, he made out the numbers.

He was holding his own lottery ticket.

He stared at the scrap of paper in his hand. Yes, it was most definitely his. The exact same numbers he had picked yesterday, as well as the transluscent stain from when he had spilled some fish oil on it, told him that this ticket belonged to him.

He began to breathe deeply. This was fine. This was okay. This day was already so terrible that nothing else could _possibly_ -

It started to rain.

Sakon blinked.

His nostrils began to flare. Rain pattered off his bald head and quickly evaporated into steam. He wasn't sure why, but something had snapped. The Bother boy's face fell as he caught Sakon's expression, freezing as he ran for cover from the rain.

Sakon was _not_ coming away from any of this empty-handed. He _had_ to make a profit. And so, he stormed through the western gate, heading back to Ikana Canyon at full speed.

* * *

He flung open the door to his base with full force. Today had left him with _no_ patience for the delicate mechanics of his hideout. He stomped on switches, violently shoved blocks, and punched Deku Babas in the face before finally reaching the end, where his hoard lay. Only when he reached the end did he realize that, in his rage, he had utterly forgotten about his secret shortcut through the base. He let out a snarl of frustration kicked a cow bobble-head into the wall.

Sakon fell to his knees among his loot. He flung aside precious scrolls and robbed knick-knacks until his thin hands found what they were looking for. Closing his fingers around it, Sakon raised the object up to the gloom to better get a look at it.

It was a peculiar mask. The whole thing was designed to fit over the face and ears, and could only be removed by the person who put it on in the first place. It was made up of rather painful-looking black wires that criss-crossed to cling to the skin, which was unusual enough on its own. However, the mask's most prominent and unsettling feature was its wide red eyes. The old codger at the Observatory had informed Sakon that it had been used as an ancient torture device, as it wouldn't allow its wearer to so much as shut their eyes, yada yada, Sakon hadn't really been listening. He had been much more concerned with sneaking it out without the old coot noticing.

Anyway, that had been close to two years ago. No one would remember it if he were to bring it to town. He was a little bit reluctant to sell it, as he felt that he would get a better price for it if he waited longer, but drastic times called for drastic measures. It was the sort of weird thing that the miser at the Curiosity Shop loved, and probably Sakon's best bet at the minute.

His lip curled upwards. It wasn't much of a consolation, but it would do.

* * *

Sakon whistled a cheerful tune as he strolled past Paloon. The fool was so preoccupied with staring at the moon that he scarcely noticed his devilishly handsome face pass him by.

The usual sights greeted him as he strolled through the square - the bank teller, silently watching him from their perch, the two carnival worke- wait.

There were two workers left. Wait - scratch that. One. The one that Sakon had noticed earlier, the one who seemed to spend all his time shouting at the other, was packing up his belongings. He watched as the man shouted out a final "I'm sorry, Bremor!" before grabbing his sack and hurrying through the southern gate. Bremor didn't seem too concerned.

A nasty feeling of unease crept into Sakon's stomach. Well, it looked like that centerpiece wasn't going to get finished on time. The square cut a sadder sight than ever now, made up solely of one single carpenter and a mangy, fleabitten mutt.

This carnival was going to be the most depressing one yet. That is, if it went ahead. His attention drifted to the moon.

He wondered if they would even live to _see_ the carnival.

His reverie was broken as he felt something digging into the small of his back through the burlap of the sack. Suddenly, he was reminded of the mask, and visions of rupees danced through his mind. He perked up instantly, and hurried across the square to the west side, all thoughts of the moon forgotten.

Sakon passed by those weird dancing sisters, scarcely noticing that they now seemed to have found a proper dance to practice. He hurried by the bomb shop and the trading post, briefly pausing to spit on the door of each, before finally reaching the curiosity shop. Gathering all his wit, charm, and general suaveness, Sakon headed inside.

The very second he opened the door, he was hit with an overpoweringly heavy scent. It made his head swim. The various curios and knick-knacks on display blurred into each other, and, through the haze, Sakon spotted who he liked to call the Curiosity Shop Guy. The man was only in his mid-thirties, and yet was already balding. Admittedly, Sakon was in his late twenties and was already completely bald, but a balding head is a lot more sad-looking than a bald one. Especially with that combover the Curiosity Shop Guy was trying to pull off.

The guy leaned on the counter, having kept his bored expression perfectly static while Sakon entered. As Sakon made his way over to the him, the guy picked something out of his ratty moustache and flicked it away.

"Hello, my dear friend!" Sakon cried, fixing the most violently friendly expression he could muster on his face. "I see that you're burning a new type of incense!"

The Curiosity Shop Guy's face remained impassable. In the gloom, Sakon could hardly make out his eyes through those tacky sunglasses.

Eventually, he heaved a sigh. "Yeah. It's a new type. Sandalwood." Without bothering to be discrete, he picked at some food stuck between his teeth. "Anyway. What do you got for me today?"

Sakon's eyes sparked. "Why, I'm glad you asked, old buddy, old pal. Take a look at _this_!" With a flourish that he felt demanded fanfare, Sakon whipped the All-Night mask from his sack and presented it with a sweep.

The Curiosity Shop Guy looked down at the mask for about a second before looking back up at Sakon. "I'll give you thirty for it."

The metaphorical rupees in Sakon's eyes fell out with a clink. "B-b-but, take a look at the craftsmanship! The craftsmanship! Work like this isn't easy to come by!"

Lamplight dully glinted off of the guy's sunglasses. "Thirty-five."

For the first time, Sakon's shallow facade slipped. He placed both his hands on the counter and leaned close to the Curiosity Shop Guy.

"Look, _my friend_. I don't think you _understand_ the day I've had. Look at this mask. I wouldn't say this mask is worth any less than a _hundred_ rupees, wouldn't you?"

"Fifty. Take it or leave it."

" _Thank_ you!" Sakon shoved the mask into the Curiosity Shop Guy's lap and accepted the purple rupee. As he headed towards the door, leaving the guy to write a price tag of five hundred rupees on the mask, he suddenly froze.

Slowly, Sakon swivelled around. He carefully studied each item for sale, gently skirting over each golden statue and stuffed like-like with his eyes, before coming to rest on a painting on the far wall. He narrowed his eyes.

The Curiosity Shop Guy, not even bothering to hide what he was doing, noticed his staring and raised an eyebrow. "Anything wrong?" he asked.

Calmly, Sakon's eyes moved to him. "No. Nothing's wrong," he replied lightly. "Have a good night."

As he headed out into the evening air, Sakon threw a final glance towards the painting. Its eyes had disappeared.

Someone else had been in the shop. And they had been watching him.


	3. Dawn of the Final Day - 24 Hours Remain

Sakon was woken far too early by a short and abrupt series of tremors. He blinked himself awake just in time to see a couple of fragile treasures shatter to the floor. Through a sleepy haze, he kicked himself out of his futon and stumbled towards the cave's mouth. After banging a fist on the switch three or four times, the false wall rumbled open and Sakon stuck his head into the morning air.

At first, Sakon couldn't see anything wrong. In fact, the skies above Ikana were more beautiful than he had ever seen them. Not a cloud blotted out the light, and the sky was a stunningly raw shade of blue. Strangely, the horizon was tinted a blindingly bright shade of green, but otherwise, the scene was completely and surreally tranquil.

Sakon furrowed his brow. Everything looked the same as it always was.

He looked around again. There was nothing there. Maybe he had just imagined the tremors. He was about to go back inside when a particularily strong quake flung him forward and almost sent him tumbling into the ravine.

Sakon's nose skidded over the cliffside. He stared blearily into the abyss for a couple of seconds before letting out a short gasp and scrambling backwards. Okay, there was _no way_ he had imagined that. Fully awake now, he looked around. What _caused_ that? He wracked his brains for a possible solution. It wasn't anything on the ground, it wasn't anything on the canyon walls, it wasn't-

 _The moon._

The memory filled Sakon with dread and fear, making him almost too paralyzed to look up. He was all too aware of the chunk of rock leering above him. Just to be certain that he hadn't dreamed it, he took a quick peek at the sky, and recoiled. Yup. It was still there.

 _Goddess_ , it was ugly. He had never remembered the moon having a face at all, let alone one that was so aesthetically unappealing. The lack of hair, combined with the crater-filled face, rather reminded Sakon of himself during his teenage years. The thought sent a hysterical giggle running through his skinny frame, which became bile in his throat. His laugh turned to a withering chuckle before dying altogether, absent-mindedly nibbling at his nails as he watched the skies. He could laugh and joke about it all he liked, but that didn't change the fact that the moon was now most definitely falling. And it wasn't taking its time, either. Its features were slowly getting larger and larger, hanging over Sakon's head like a guillotine. He shuddered and nervously spat on the ground.

He wondered - was there time to leave Termina? _Could_ he leave Termina? He had never tried to do so before, but it seemed that he would have to now. People travelled to and from different parts of the land, but he had never seen anyone leave Termina altogether. Perhaps there was a way. He fumbled for his notebook.

Licking his finger, he quickly thumbed through the worn pages for anyone who had arrived in Termina recently. He glanced over the alpabetical index on each page - F, G, H, I, J, K - before realizing that a name had caught his eye. Sakon paused. He cautiously turned back to 'H'. The first name on the page stood out to him like a misshapen tree on an otherwise pristine landscape.

The Happy Mask Salesman.

Or simply 'Happy Mask Salesman', as he was listed in Sakon's notebook. If he included every 'the' as part of someone's name, the entire notebook would be filled with 'T's, and the point of an index would be rendered useless. 'The postman'. 'The bomber boys'. 'The bank guy'. 'The toilet hand'.

Sakon chewed on his lip. He had only seen the Happy Mask Salesman in person once. It had been like seeing a ghost. That is, if the average ghost carried a bag thrice its height and width. It had been the wee hours of the morning, a few days prior. Sakon had had one too many down at the milk bar, and was staggering home when the Mask Salesman's figure had seemingly appeared out of thin air in the town square. Sakon had initially put it down to a drunken vision, but he wasn't exactly picky at the minute. That seemed to definitely qualify as arriving in Termina from elsewhere, and so the Mask Salesman probably knew how to leave Termina, too.

He swallowed hard.

Right. It was off to Clock Town.

* * *

If Sakon had thought town was deserted yesterday, then today's sorry sight was making him eat his words. The town was completely empty. Not a soul in sight. Well, except for the bank guy, but who counted him.

Sakon carefully avoided making eye contact with him as he passed. His goal was the clock tower in the square. That was where the Mask Salesman had entered the other day, and there had been nothing to show that he had left yet. Sakon would have criticized his housing choices, but then remembered that he lived in a cave.

Sakon swallowed a lump in his throat as he cast a quick glance at the sky. The moon glared back. That Mask Salesman had better be home. In these last three days, Sakon had experienced more fear than in the last twenty-seven years. He wasn't entirely sure what his plans were for the off chance that the Mask Salesman couldn't help him.

As he put his shoulder against the heavy tower doors and heaved, he noticed the centerpiece in the square had been completed. Colourful flags hung off of it, fluttering gently in the breeze. The sight left a sour taste in his mouth.

The second he stepped inside the tower, his world was plunged into darkness. It took some time for his eyes to adjust to the dim light, though the grinding of gears gave him a fairly good idea as to what he would see. The ceiling was covered with cogs and wheels, all dragging laboriously against each other. Occasional drops of water plipped from the ceiling.

"Um, excuse me," he called, walking down the steps and into the belly of the tower. His skin felt clammy, either from the damp or from his nerves. The sound of running water came from below. "Hello?"

His voice bounced off the moss-covered walls. He had only been down here once - back when he was beginning his career. He had tried spotting this place for a hideout. Now, he remembered why he decided against it. Sakon felt a sneeze coming on.

"Hel-lo," he repeated, becoming impatient. He wandered cautiously towards the back. A set of stairs led further down, though whatever was down there was obscured in shadow. Sakon bent over and peered into the darkness, irritation mounting. "Mister, uh, Mask Salesman?"

"Yes?"

Sakon shrieked at the voice behind him and toppled over the edge of the stairs. At the last second, a thin hand grasped his wrist, and he was wrenched back, turning and bumping noses with an alarmingly pale face.

The face smiled.

"Hello."

"H-" Sakon's voice broke, and he swallowed again. He drew back, both to gain some space from the person and to take a better look at them. All he could make out was an alarming smile and some red hair. "Hello."

"Can I help you?"

"Um." Sakon turned his head and glanced into the gaping hole he was dangling over. "Yes. You can let go of me. Please."

"You want me to let you go?" The man's grin widened. "As you wish."

Sakon shrieked again as he felt himself tumbling backwards. Just as his head was about to collide with stone, the man grabbed his other hand and spun him back onto his feet. Sakon let out an enormous breath as the man laughed a high-pitched, unnerving laugh. As Sakon got his bearings, he took a resentful glare at the man. He was just as Sakon remembered him - bone-coloured skin, a face permanently creased in a smile, and a frame so skinny that it was a wonder he could support his own weight. No ifs, ands, or buts. This was the Happy Mask Salesman. He was bent double with laughter, motioning as if to wipe tears from his eyes despite his cheeks being dry as a stone. Sakon fixed his most charming smile on his face.

"The Happy Mask Salesman, correct?"

With a motion so quick that Sakon didn't notice it, the Mask Salesman was standing straight as a rod, making sweeping nods with his fingers interlinked. "Correct. And let me see if I can guess who you are."

The man was just as eccentric as Sakon had assumed. He decided to humour him, keeping his smile fixed in place.

"You are... Hm. Let me see."

 _The moon isn't falling any slower, you know._

"You are... Sakon. The thief. From Ikana, yes?"

Sakon's eyebrows inadvertently flew upward. He was expecting the man to make some wild guess, maybe say something whimsical and weird, like " _oh, tra-la-la, you're the king of the moon_ ". He wasn't expecting him to be _right_.

He paused. Perhaps the Mask Salesman was also in the business of reconaissance. Yes, of course. Sakon chortled inwardly as he regained his composure. This guy was good. He certainly came off as some weird eccentric, but he was good. Maybe Sakon should have been taking notes.

The Mask Salesman cocked his head, examining Sakon through closed eyes. His movements were almost serpent-like. "Yes... Ikana. You are Sakon. You are a thief. And you are afraid."

Sakon blinked and let out a slightly nervous laugh. He imagined _everyone_ was afraid. The blasted moon was falling, man. It didn't take a detective to figure _that_ one out.

The Mask Salesman feigned surprise. "Oh! I have amused you. Excellent. I do so enjoy a good laugh. I imagine that you, too, have had a few laughs these past few days, Sakon."

Sakon's laughter stopped. "Beg pardon?"

"Many laughs, indeed. For example, when you left Candel, hanging from the branches of that tree? I imagine that was quite titter-inducing! Oh, and when you tried to rob the old dear from the bomb shop? It must have been a _scream_ when you pushed her into the dirt! The sound of her frail bones cracking must have simply been to _die_ for!" He stopped, his face crumpling in sorrow. "Oh, but that didn't end well for you, did it. Well, never mind. I'm sure there's still a lot you've found to laugh about, Sakon."

Sakon's blood ran cold. "How... How do you know about -"

"Yes, Sakon, the thief of Ikana. The man who robs and cheats with a smile on his face, who always manages to take the last laugh. Do you want to laugh now, Sakon?" the Mask Salesman went on, his smile growing. Sakon shrank back, but the man advanced. "The streets are empty. Who will make you laugh now? Who will you hurt for your own gain when there is no one around to hurt? Will you seek solace in your loot and stolen treasure? Do you think your trinkets will last the night? Will _you_?"

Sakon was pressed against the far wall at this point. The Mask Salesman's smile was stretched far beyond how any normal smile should look.

In the next instant, he was standing an acceptable distance away from Sakon, and his smile was yet again friendly. Sakon's heart felt as though it would leap from his chest.

"Anyhow, is there anything I may assist you with?"

Sakon struggled to catch his breath. "Um." He was too afraid to ask.

"Go on, go on. I shan't bite."

"Well." Sakon eyed the man. He was obviously not to be trusted. His smile seemed pleasant enough (albeit unsettling), but there was something lying beneath the surface of his paper-like skin. He was like a taut elastic band. Amusing for a couple of minutes, as he bounced around and made funny noises - but there was no telling when he would snap and fly into another rage.

Nothing for it. Sakon took a gulp of air as though he was about to dive underwater. "I was hoping that you could -"

"Help you leave Termina?"

Sakon blinked, thrown, but decided against questioning it. "Um. Yes. Precisely."

"An excellent idea, Sakon. You know this land hasn't long left. I was planning on leaving, myself."

Sakon laughed weakly. "Well, then, it's a good thing I came to you when I did."

The Mask Salesman smiled politely. "Yes, it is."

Silence grew between them. Sakon waited, then realized he was probably waiting for him to ask directly.

"Ah, well, how were you planning on leaving?"

"No way that you could manage, Sakon."

The pit of his stomach sank. "R-really." He cleared his throat. "So, um, are you telling me there's no way for _me_ to leave Termina?"

"On the contrary."

The abrupt answers were throwing him off. "Well, then, _how_?!" he blurted out.

The Mask Salesman's eyes narrowed into two pleasant lines. "Why, Sakon. It's been right under your nose all this time."

"Please. Just tell me," Sakon said, exasperated. Why did this loathsome man insist on talking in circles?

"Do you recall stealing any _masks_ lately?"

A pause.

"Y-yes."

"What a coincidence. I had just such a run-in the other day."

Sakon gave a nervous giggle as he tried to figure out exactly how he had known about the Sun Mask. "You are also in the purloining business, mister Mask Salesman?"

For a split second, the man's smile disappeared and was replaced with a look of utter hatred.

"No," he spat. Sakon jumped. As before, his pleasant smile returned in the time it took Sakon to blink. "Do you recall where you left it?"

"The mask? Wh - well, yeah, of - of course. It's at my hideout." The relentlessly greedy part of Sakon's mind slightly hoped that he wasn't about to ask for the Sun Mask in return.

The Mask Salesman's mouth narrowed into a line and he sighed through his nose. "No, Sakon. _Where_ is it? Have you _placed_ it anywhere in particular? On a _conveyor belt_ , perhaps?"

Sakon's brow furrowed. His head hurt. "I mean... yeah? Yes? I left it on the conveyor belt? It's designed so the mask will be dropped off into the caverns if someone tries to take it..."

"The caverns beneath Ikana, correct?" the Mask Salesman pressed on.

"Yes...?"

"Which you shall use as your _escape route_? Should someone discover your hideout and attempt to take back what is theirs?"

Sakon was feeling stupider by the second.

The Mask Salesman's smile tightened. "Do you know where the caverns _lead_?"

"I mean -" He paused. He frowned. Finally, he caught on. "My _hideout_ leads out of Termina?"

The Mask Salesman seemed pleased. "I believe you may have stumbled upon your means to salvation, Sakon."

Sakon looked away for a moment. He could scarcely believe it. All these years living in Ikana, and he had never once realized the caverns' secret. He had _assumed_ that they eventually integrated with the Clock Town sewers - he never thought he would ever have to actually leave his hideout that way, and it certainly _smelled_ foul enough down there that he had never thought to investigate otherwise. All this time, he had assumed that escape meant dragging his sorry carcass through the plumbing, and emerging back out into the staleness of Termina to continue his operations. In actuality, there had been a _whole new land_ to pilfer and pillage - right under his home. _All this time_. He wanted to scream.

"Mister Mask Salesman, thank you s -"

As he looked back up to thank the man, he was met only with empty air. He had disappeared, and the only sound in the tower was once again running water. Sakon's head swivelled around.

Maybe he had...?

No, imagining it was out of the question. He now had very real and tangible information that would surely save his skin. He emitted a hiccupy giggle.

Sakon would live to see another day.

* * *

There was so much to do. So much to _gather_. He wouldn't be able to take his whole stash with him, of course - as much as it pained him, some of his beloved treasures would have to be left behind. As Sakon briskly made his way along the edge of the gorge, he tried to prioritize his horde according to value and ease of movement. The wooden head from the inn, for example, would have to stay - it was enormous and unsightly, cheaply made, and overall not worth the pains it would take to bring. The knockoff cow bobble-heads were too bulky and numerous, and could be bought almost anywhere, anyway. The Sun Mask, on the other hand -

Sakon briefly froze as he turned the corner leading to his hideout. It was only for a moment, and he scarcely broke his stride, but he had seen it. Behind the small group of rocks nestled by the false door, there had been something. A brief flash of green.

 _Green_.

Sakon went over all of the people in Termina who wore green. Two people sprang to mind. One was the bank teller in town. He wasn't able to wear shoes with laces, let alone discover Sakon's brilliantly-disguised hideout by himself. That left one other person. Sakon's eye twitched as he recalled the sensation of being watched he felt in the Curiosity Shop.

It had to be _him_. That boy. The one with the sword, the one who thwarted his bomb shop heist, the one who had been nothing but a _thorn in his side_ since he had arrived in Termina. _He was here_.

Sakon, being a professional of the highest order, didn't let the shock show. He passed by the boy's hiding spot as though he hadn't a care in the world, letting his eyes skirt over it as he usually would. Avoiding looking at it would surely draw suspicion.

This was perfect. The boy couldn't have come at a better time. This would be killing two birds with one stone - he would trigger the security system on entering behind Sakon, starting the conveyor belt's movement and sending the hideout into lockdown. Sakon could slip beneath the trapdoor at the back of the hideout, and he would simply have to wait until the priceless Sun Mask was dropped into his lap. He would make his escape, and the brat would be trapped in the hideout until either the moon fell or he starved to death. The perfect revenge for having gotten in the way of Sakon's profits.

Now, some might have considered it harsh to allow the boy to die this way. After all, he couldn't have been more than ten. Some might have found the smile on Sakon's face disgusting, as he opened the door to his hideout and skipped inside. But one had to consider his _circumstances_ \- what else was a thief to do, when the brat had caused him several brushes with death and cheated him out of countless rupees? Besides, he had never liked children anyway.

The moment he was inside and out of view of the boy, he quickly moved to set the alarm before haring off towards the back of the hideout. He estimated that it would be less than a minute before the boy came in after him, so the clock was ticking. He reached his living quarters in around thirty seconds, spent ten seconds stuffing rupees and trinkets into his bag, and had lifted the trapdoor and slipped into the underground passageway in less than five. He waited in the darkness, his breath bouncing against the cool stone walls.

The trapdoor was set on a timer after the security system was tripped, allowing roughly thirty seconds for the conveyer belt to drop the Sun Mask to be dropped into the caverns. After that, it would automatically seal itself shut, meaning there was no way Sakon would be followed. It was foolproof. He was basically free already. His heart pounded against his chest as he imagined the adventures he would have in the new land. Maybe this time around, he could find himself a sidekick. She would be young, with a thing for bald guys and no problem with splitting treasure 80/20...

Right on cue, the wail of an alarm rang throughout the hideout, and Sakon felt the rumbling of the door shutting itself. His lips parted in a wolfish grin. It was only a matter of time now. All he had to do was wait, but he couldn't resist taunting the snot-eater. Fortunately, he had a makeshift sound system installed by attaching the head of a phonograph to the lip of the ceiling pipes. He reached out of the trapdoor and grasped hold of the metallic mouthpiece protruding down from the ceiling, and let out a small giggle before speaking into it.

"Hellooo, noble hero!" he called in a sing-song tone. He paused to revel in the echo of his own voice, and the confusion it must have been causing. "Sorry to rain on your parade, but I'm afraid you're out of luck. I'll be escaping with the Sun Mask, and you'll be stuck here."

He paused again, and strained his ears to hear if the boy was crying yet. There was silence, so Sakon pushed further.

"See that conveyer belt? You'll have no chance of getting what's on it unless you get through my hideout. But you'll need two people for that, and there's only one of you, isn't there? Boo hoo hoo!" He moved away from the mouthpiece to snicker, before moving back to deliver his parting words. "Seeya on the other side, brat! Hope the moon doesn't hit too hard!"

He released the mouthpiece, letting it bounce back up to the ceiling, and settled himself against the ladder to the caverns to wait. He could hardly keep still. It was a matter of seconds, now, before the mask would be in his possession. Then he would be off to the depths, safe and bound for freedom. He glanced downwards to size up what he was getting himself into. The stench of sewage floated up from pitch darkness and curled his nostrils. He rummaged around his bag for his lantern, before a clanging noise above him caught his attention and he was plunged into darkness.

"Huh?"

Sakon reached up and his fingers met with metal. He felt around, placing his hands flat against it, and pushed. It didn't budge. The trapdoor had sealed itself shut.

"Huh? Huh?"

This didn't make sense. He didn't have the Sun Mask yet. The trapdoor wasn't supposed to close until the mask reached the end of the conveyor belt. It didn't malfunction, did it?

"Hey!" he yelled, banging against the trapdoor. "Oi!"

A muffled voice came from above. Sakon shut up and strained to hear who it was.

"...don't think he's escaping any time soon. Come on, Link. We have to get back to Anju..."

His security system _hadn't_ malfunctioned. The brat had disarmed it, somehow. _He had the Sun Mask_.

" _Hey_!" he shrieked, pounding against the trapdoor. "Give me back my mask! That's rightfully mine! I stole it myself!"

There was a brief silence, before whoever was above him stomped down on the trapdoor. The sudden sensation threw Sakon off balance, and he lost his grip on the ladder, shrieking as he tumbled into the gloom.

"It's _my_ mask, actually," said the voice, and Sakon finally recognized it. The image of a purple-haired boy with eyes older than his face flashed through Sakon's mind before he hit the ground and everything went dark.

* * *

Hours later, Sakon awoke. It was black as pitch, and for a moment, he thought he was dead. Then, a wet sensation against his back brought him back. He groaned.

Laboriously pulling himself into a sitting position, he felt beneath him. It seemed he had landed directly on his back, crushing the contents of his bag. His lantern had shattered, and lamp oil now soaked him. Shards of rupees stuck into his back.

Shaking with rage, Sakon let out a scream of anger and flung the bag as hard as he could. It landed with a distant splash.

He wanted to cry. This couldn't have gone worse. First he lost the Sun Mask, and now the rest of his treasures were ruined thanks to that _brat_. The next time Sakon saw him, he wouldn't hesitate to kill him on the spot.

The ground trembled suddenly, and Sakon was instantly reminded that there wouldn't _be_ a next time. He scrambled to his feet. The moon was falling. He had no idea how long he had been out for. It could fall any second now. He had to hurry.

He fumbled around his pockets for a set of matches, and struck one against the ground. The small flame illuminated the cavern ceiling, nearly low enough to touch Sakon's head. A stench of sewage came from behind him, probably leading to the Clock Town sewers. Accordingly, Sakon hurried in the opposite direction, cupping the match to stop it from going out.

Sakon muttered angrily to himself as he made his way through the caverns, his voice echoing against the walls. Why did he leave so much up to chance? He should have just grabbed the mask when he entered the hideout, rather than leaving it on the conveyor belt where it could have been oh-so-easily snatched. He didn't think. He had been so caught up in getting the boy back for all the trouble he had caused that he didn't think sensibly.

Another quake shook the cavern walls, and Sakon gasped quietly. He froze as dust and pebbles rained down on his head. The match sputtered out, sending him once more into darkness, and when the shaking stopped, he fished out another match and struck it against the ceiling.

He shook his head. None of that mattered any more. Right now, the only thing he should have been focusing on was staying alive. Whenever he emerged out of the caverns, he would find a place to make camp and rest before finding civilization. Until then, all he had to do was -

He stopped. Ignoring the small tremors running through the ground, he held up the match in front of him and squinted.

Up ahead, the cavern walls stopped. They didn't widen into a chamber or taper off into a cave mouth or anything like that. They simply stopped. Ahead lay nothing.

Sakon moved closer, wondering if his eyes were playing tricks on him. A sudden silent gust of wind blew out the match again. As he reached into his pocket for another, he saw something very strange.

A small neon light floated in front of him. As he narrowed his eyes, he saw that it was a drawing of a Goron's head, made entirely out of yellow light. As soon as he focused on it, it disappeared, and a pink Zora's head replaced it, before quickly dissipating as well. Another picture of a Deku Scrub appeared, and before long, the air was alive with countless glowing images, floating and shimmering and dying before Sakon could draw breath. He saw all of the creatures inhabiting Termina, and people, too. The innkeeper woman, the bomb shop owner and her son, Candel - all passed before his eyes, written in light. It took his breath away. He wandered towards the lights and away from the cursed caverns, leaving the doomed stagnancy of Termina behind him.

Sakon let himself be wrapped in neon, feeling as though a great weight was being removed from his chest. For the first time, he felt truly at peace. Here, there were no tremors, and no moon. His eyes became half-lidded, and he felt himself becoming consumed by the glow. A gentle beat thrummed in his ears, and his mind became fuzzy, as though it was no longer entirely in this world. Through his eyelashes, Sakon saw his own face in the darkness, illuminated by an unearthly light. Smiling (or at least he _could_ have been smiling - it felt as though he had transcended facial expressions), he studied his handsome visage through his own eyes. His body was no longer his own, now standing before him as his consciousness floated away. What would happen to his old self once he reached the new land? It didn't matter. Sakon bid his farewells to the body that had served him so well, gazing over it one last time so it would be fresh in his memory.

But something was wrong. His body was different. He searched and searched the pale mass of flesh, trying to find what it was that set it apart, until he reached out with ghostly fingers and touched the sheet of smooth skin.

It didn't have a face.

In that moment, he realized he was dealing with powers far, far beyond his comprehension. Spirit reconnected with flesh in a visceral jolt, and he drew back, breaking away from the strange embrace.

Suddenly unused to his body, he stumbled backwards, tripping over a stone and landing roughly on the cavern floor as a particularily strong tremor rocked the caves. He struggled to reconnect to his memories - where was he? _Who_ was he? He was Sakon, this was Termina, and -

"Oh, _giants_."

This was it. The moon was falling _now_. He didn't have long. He tried to pull himself back to his feet, but the quake was relentless, and he was unable to find his footing. Instead, Sakon crawled away from the lights, wriggling on his stomach and cutting his hands as he scrabbled desperately against rock. A deep, unsettling crack came from the ceiling, and it gave way, as chunks of stone crashed to the ground behind Sakon and seperated him from the lights. He screamed and tried to stand up to run, but simply tripped over his own feet and hit his front teeth against the ground. He couldn't tell which way was up. His whole world was darkness and stone.

The cavern ceiling continued to fall, and Sakon tried to crawl away as fast as he could. He was screaming at the top of his lungs now, his face coated with a thin film of dust and sweat. A particularly large rock tumbled down behind him, and he gurgled with pain as a sudden shattering feeling in his leg pinned him to the ground. He tried to pull his maimed limb out from underneath the debris, but it was stuck fast.

The ground continued to shake. Sakon was now very pale. He screamed and screamed, though he couldn't hear his own voice over the sound of the caverns breaking apart around him. He begged for someone, _anyone_ to come.

" _Boy! Come back! You can keep the mask, just help me!_ "

There was no answer. A stalactite plunged into the river next to him, sending a splash of dirty water raining over him.

" _Mask Salesman! I'm still down here! Help me!_ "

He spluttered, spraying water and spit from his lips. The ceiling directly above his head buckled, and began to cave in. Sakon clawed at the ground and cried.

"Someone, ple-please help me... I'll never steal again, I promise..."

His only response was the rumbling and cracking of ancient rock. The world folded in on itself around Sakon.

"I don't want to di-i-i-i -"

The ceiling came down.

* * *

 **A.N. Oh jeez, it's been a while since I updated this. Sorryyyyyyy! I graduated highschool while this chapter was in the works, and since then, I've kind of lost my momentum for creative stuff. I started college, I'm getting older... It kind of feels like I'm outgrowing fanfiction. It's sad, but I guess that's just how the cookie crumbles. This site was a fairly big part for me growing up, and I'm super grateful for the experiences I've had on here. I'm gonna finish this story for sure, but after that, who knows! Consider this a sort of informal farewell, haha.**


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